


Savannah

by RipperBlackstaff



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Plunkett and Macleane (1999)
Genre: Anyelle, F/M, Rumbelle Secret Santa, Rumbelle Secret Santa 2014, plunkelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 12:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2811914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipperBlackstaff/pseuds/RipperBlackstaff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My giftee is thesquirrelbaby and her prompt was : Plunkelle, secret santa exchange. </p>
<p>Savannah, Georgia, 1750.<br/>The Macleanes and Plunkett are finally at peace in America, enjoying a peaceful life. However, their past catches them up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Savannah

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thesquirrelbaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesquirrelbaby/gifts).



The harbour of the town of Savannah, Georgia, appeared to the eyes of Lady Belle French and her companion, Sir Gaston Langston. His huge hands were supporting his big frame as he loomed over her shoulder over the ship's railing.   
  
The couple had sailed from England to New York, and from New York to Savannah. The trip had been long and tiring, but finally it was coming to an end. The ship was literally flying over the sea toward their destination goal.   
  
The town was still in infancy state, having been created 18 years ago. The rainy and cold weather made the streets muddy, which prevented people from staying clean in any way. The town was dark brown from afar, all over.   
  
Sir Gaston curled his lips in disgust. "Dear god," he muttered under his breath. "Mud, wood, dark sky... it makes me want to turn around and sail away. I miss London already."  
"You missed it already two weeks ago when we were in the middle of the ocean, Gaston," Lady Belle replied, her face blank as she stared at the shore.  
Gaston glanced at her with coldness. "True," he conceded. "London is the jewel of the world."  
"We're here for the good of the jewel of the world," she reminded him.  
"I know. Let's accomplish our mission fast and get back to civilisation."  
Lady Belle nodded. "Indeed. I don't think they have a library here."   
  
The ship captain called out for the passengers to prepare their luggages in their cabin, for the ship would be docked in half an hour.   
  
Lady Belle hooked her arm to Sir Gaston's and they went back inside the ship.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Plunkett closed his shop, at 6pm as per the schedule on the door of his shop indicated. He laid his arm on the door with a tiny smile. After London, they - James, Rebecca and he - had spent 12 hard months on the roads to find a home. They had finally found Savannah, a tiny town set in Georgia by the sea. It was not refined but no one knew them. It was a melting pot of people, languages and religions, the English government not having imposed anything about these points yet.   
  
He locked the thick door and pocketted the key. Some wooden pavement followed the walls of the shops and houses to prevent people from walking in the mud. It was not like this all year long, but the Englishmen had discovered winters were harsh, here.   
  
William walked to James and Rebecca's house. The married couple lived by the city doors near the forest. The walk was short and he nodded at several people when he passed by them. Some older ladies tried to engage him into some pointless small talk as to how a bachelor such as him could spend Christmas on his own ? Maybe  if he had a gentle wife to sweeten his days, it would be better for his sake ? Their daughter, for example ? He managed to get out of those situations with a little sneer and a sharp reply.   
  
Plunkett had come to realise he was an eligible bachelor in this city. He had come back to a honest life and apart from a punch fight a few months ago, he had walked the straight line, just like James. Single men were rare since families tend to move together and he had a shop and a regular income. He was a moving target for mothers looking to marry their daughters.   
  
He knocked on the door of his friend's house, breathing in relief. Rebecca Macleane opened the door and let him in with a smile.   
"William," she greeted him.   
"Rebecca," he answered, removing his coat to hang it on a hook behind the door.   
"Jamie will be home soon," she informed him. "He went to see if the traps he made had caught something."  
  
James Macleane, the inapt shooter had become a hunter, and a very good one. From time to time, Plunkett came and the two men had fun hunting together, bringing a lot of game James sold to butchers. As for his wife, the noblewoman used her education to teach the town's children and she had surprisingly well adapted to her new life.   
"How is little Billy ?" William asked.  
Rebecca grinned, always happy to talk about her son - Plunkett's godson. "He's perfect. Already sleeping, bless his soul."   
  
Motherhood and James' infinite love had softened the former Lady Gibson. Her core was still fiery but Rebecca Macleane had gentle edges   
  
Rebecca offered him a drink and they shared a whisky waiting for James.   
  
  
****  
  
Sheriff Graham Humbert bowed in front of Sir Gaston.   
"A pleasure to receive you both to the Lodge of Savannah," the sheriff greeted them before kissing Lady Belle's hand. "The freemasons are always happy to receive our European peers."   
"Nice to meet you, Sheriff Humbert," Sir Gaston replied.   
"The Grandmaster will receive you, please follow me."   
  
The town sheriff led them through the corridors of the manor the freemasons used as lodge. It was the only building of Savannah half built in wood.   
  
Sir Gaston and Lady Belle were introduced into the office of the Grandmaster George King who was also the judge of the town.   
He invited Sir Gaston to sit down but left Lady Belle standing. He stared at her with a slight hostile look, informing her he was of the kind who considered women unworthy to be a freemason, even if Belle was technically not one. Women were not allowed in this organisation.   
  
Sir Gaston explained to him what they came to do in brief sentences and concluded by "The less you know, the safer you are, Grandmaster. Though the law is in our hand, let's not draw attention to him. We shall do what we have to and go back to England. In the meantime, if you could point a hotel at us, we would be grateful."  
"Granny's inn on the main road," George King answered shortly. "Sheriff Humbert will help you find it and keep an eye on your safety. If you need a man to help you, Sir Gaston, we will provide you one : and of course, the law forces will close their eyes to whatever you might do in Savannah."   
"Thank you kindly, Mister King."   
  
Lady Belle followed Sir Gaston out and into the city. "Come Belle," he whispered. "Let's go catch ourself a murderer."   
  
  
****  
  
  
The Macleanes and Plunkett were eating their dinner, chatting in a low voice not to wake up Billy, peacefully sleeping in his crib in a corner of the room.   
"I've had an idea," James said. "A tradition from my family. Since I have had no family before now, I dropped it but now that I have one again, I think it is time to do it again."  
  
Plunkett took a sip of wine from the glass he was holding and placed it back on the table. He was sated, his belly full of the delicious stew Rebecca had cooked.   
"What is it ?" he asked.   
James flashed him a little grin before answering, "A secret gift exchange."    
"What is this?"   
"You put your name in a hat with the names of other people and then you draw one. You've got to offer a gift to the person whose name you drew."  
"Ain't that a posh thing to do ?" William commented.   
"Just say you gonna do it. The hunters and their family do it too," Rebecca replied in a stern voice.   
"Yeah, yeah, fine."   
  
James wrote Plunkett's name on a paper and plunged it into a big hat. "Draw one," he ordered.  
William obeyed and read on the paper he just pulled out : William Macleane.  
"Don't tell us," Rebecca said. "On the morrow of Jesus Christ's birth, we'll exchange our gifts in a big feast in the neighbourhood."  
"Fine."   
  
William left the the evening wondering what the hell he could offer a baby. The answer came with his morning tea at Granny's.   
  
Plunkett sat on his usual stool in front of the counter. Ruby, Widow Lucas' grand-daughter, one of the few women in town who wasn't looking to wed him, deposited a plate in front of him.   
"There you go, Mr. Plunkett," she said cheefully. "Scrambled eggs, done the way you love them."  
"Thank you, Miss Lucas."   
  
She grinned at him and started to turn around to go back to the kitchen but he stopped her with an inappropriate hand around her wrist. She froze and he released her when she glanced at his hold on her.   
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I wanted to ask you about something I feel is out of my area of expertise."  
Miss Lucas looked intrigued and nodded at him. "Go ahead."  
"I find myself having to offer a Christmas present to my godson and I have no idea what."  
She looked puzzled. "Why do you think I'd know ?"  
"Because you are friends with Mrs. Nolan who recently gave birth. That's what I think you could help me."  
"I offered a blanket to Little Emma. Wool and fur for her to be warm at night."   
"Yes, it is a great idea," William replied, taking a sip of tea. "James is a hunter though, he can have all the furs Billy could need."  
"Buy a precious fur, an animal who isn't seen around here."  
  
Plunkett stared at Ruby, eyebrows high from the genius of the waitress.  
"That's a good idea. I wonder if a merchant could..."  
  
His voice died when the most beautiful woman he had ever seen entered the room. Smaller than him, eyes like the spring sky, a mouth a saint would kill to kiss and a fucking posh English accent when she wished Miss Lucas a good morning. William had not noticed the big ox of a man  behind her before but from the way he was dressed, Plunkett could tell he wasn't a bodyguard. Not a family member either, according to their bone structures.        
  
They were fucking richards, fucking posh Londoneers. When the woman was polite, the man only grunted a vague greeting before sitting down, acting like he owned the place.   
  
Plunkett felt his soul twitch in annoyance. The aggressive highwayman rebel was never far from the edgy but peaceful shop owner. He still hated bourgeois and noblemen, and the rude ox-man had a scarf of silver fox around the neck. It could be perfect for his godson, an evolving gift. A blanket for the baby, a scarf for the little man he'd become.   
"Good morning, Lady Belle, Sir Langston," Ruby told them ever so polite. She took their order and went into the kitchen to prepare it.  
  
Plunkett started to eat his cold breakfast, observing the English couple. The man was eating his plate containing a scary amount of eggs with a good appetite while the woman was more delicate. The former highwayman decided the scarf would be his godson's.  
  
First, it would be a free gift. Though his finances were good, saving some money was always something to appreciate. Then, it was a rare fur, so precious. But what really excited Plunkett was imagining the man - Langston's anger. He started noting mentally the layout of the inn, deciding he'd commit the theft tonight. He spotted a little window in the little corridor leading to the bathroom, so he faked having to go to investigate it. He unlocked the window, keeping it closed and hoping the Lucas wouldn't notice.   
  
When he left the inn, he thought he heard his name outloud but when he turned to observe, no one reacted, so he departed.   
  
Hours later, he was in his shop, crushing leaves in a mortar. A customer entered, the little bell above his door ringing loud and clear. Plunkett looked up and froze when he realised the posh lady was in front of his counter.   
"Good morning, Mr. Plunkett," she greeted him.   
"Good morning, Mrs..."  
"Lady Belle French," she answered.  
  
William noted her family name wasn't the same than the ox-man so no marriage there. He didn't know why but the thought was pleasant. They stood still, staring at each other, they breathing rythmed by the tick tock of the clock in the corner. Plunkett was mesmerized by her features. She was beautiful but her expression was determined and calm. Focused. It told him she would take no bullshit. William Plunkett was a good judge of character, he could see she wasn't a shallow woman either.   
  
She cleared her throat and he startled, saying automatically, "How can I help you ?"  
"I'm looking for an oil to protect my skin from the cold," she replied, looking gracefully sheepish. "I didn't foresee it would be so cold here, and the waitress at the inn recommanded your shop."  
"Of course. I could mix an olive oil with honeysuckle, rosemary and lavender. It will do what you ask."  
"It sounds perfect, Mr. Plunkett. How much would it cost ?"  
"Ten shillings."   
  
Lady Belle nodded her agreement and she browsed the shelves while he prepared the mixture. He had the impression she was keeping sending him little glances. Plunkett readied the little vial in record time and took the coin she gave him.  
"Thank you," he told her.  
  
He wished her a good day and she departed.  
  
The day was somehow slow, the thrill of the future theft erasing the peaceful routine William also loved.   
  
Night found him, edgy and focused, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He tied around his face a piece of dark cloth, letting only his eyes appear, and he left his home by the backdoor. He had a coat long enough to hide the short dagger hung to his belt and a large hat to hide his mask. He looked excentric but no one would be able to tell who he was, nor be alarmed when crossing him in the streets.  
  
It was late at night and the inn was closed, dark and silent. Plunkett slid through the window inside the building. He tiptoed to the counter and hid behind it to read the register. Sir Langston was in room 1 and Lady Belle was in room 5. Thinking they did not share the same room was pleasant to William. Somehow the ox-man was not worthy of her.  
  
William crept up the staircase, trying to be as silent as a shadow. The wook made little noise under his boots but it was too much already. He flattened his hand on the door to press his ear against it. No noise inside, good. He grinned and slowly lowered the handle. He sneaked in. He could hear the loud, slow and regular breathing of a sleeping man in bed. He moved toward the cupboard and, as his hand touched the panel, a violent push slammed him into it. His heart jumped, wondering how it was possible. He turned around and reflexively punched his assailant, a little guy with a mask over his face and hair who threw himself at him again.   
  
Plunkett punched him in the belly, wondering who the hell this guy was. The man doubled over, coughing.  
  
Langston started to wake up, and for the first time in a long time, Plunkett was genuinely scared. The noblecrap was a bunch of muscles with great strength, and a punch from him would hurt. However, if anything, he was brave, and he wouldn't let a dumb ox beat him. He pushed the smaller man onto Gaston and rushed to the window. He flipped the latch open and jumped through. The fall was short and made him bury himself into the mud up to his knees, his hat falling away.   
"Fuck !" he growled out. "FUCK !"  
  
Looking up, he saw Langston smirking down at him with condescendance and rage burst into him. He forced himself out of the mud, his jaw tight from the effort of spreading his toes inside his boots not to lose them.  
  
He started running awkwardly away and he heard footsteps behind him. He glanced behind him and saw the little man pursuing him. He grunted in annoyance and ran harder. The pursuer was lighter on his feet and his boots were not covered in heavy wet soil. Plunkett did what he could but when he arrived in the harbour, he knew he had lost too much ground to be able to make a safe escape. He stopped running on the last dock. It was boatless, so more discreete.   
  
He stopped running and pulled his knife out, turning around to face his opponent. William wondered if he was another thief, visiting Ox-man's room in the same time.   
"What were you" William started, cut off by the man spearing him into his middle section. He let out a humpf, falling down on the wooden dock heavily under the man. He punched Plunkett hard in the side. William winced and jabbed the man, flipping them over. He felt him buck under him, slide a foot up to his hip and kick him away backward. Plunkett crashed onto his side and the man and he got to their feet.   
  
They faced each other, fists raised. Plunkett attacked, aiming to knock the man out of his feet. However the man sidestepped and wrapped his arms around the thief's neck from behind in a headlock. The squeeze was unmistakable, he was chocking William.   
  
Plunkett's vision started to blacken and he struggled. The man's hold didn't loosen and William just fell on his back, crushing him. The pure shock dazed the man and Plunkett removed his arms from his throat. He managed to turn, laying down on him, breathing hard to catch his breath while trying to keep him down. There was a smell... He managed to get a sniff and he recognized lavender and rosemary on a base of honeysuckle. His work. Lady Belle.   
  
He got up, impressed at the fighter she was and absolutely not understanding what she was doing. She growled and rushed at him but he just grabbed her and pushed her off the dock into the sea. Lady Belle managed to resurface and swam to the shore.  
  
Plunkett took advantage of her distraction to run away.  
  
  
***  
  
When he arrived home, he was full of questions. Why was she dressed like that ? Why did she fight him ? It seemed she was Langston's bodyguard after all. Plunkett wondered if she had recognized him, if she'd send him to the gallows in case she had. He burned his mask and his clothes in his chimney. He was angry at having lost his hat but it wasn't one he had worn recently so it wasn't significant.   
  
He avoided public places for the next two days, his guts full of anguish, waiting for Sheriff Graham to come and arrest him. He loved his life in Savannah. Since he had moved in the US, he had found a peace he hadn't had since his wife's death. He was content and he knew this mess could have been avoided, if only he had been less arrogant. But hey, that was him. His hatred of nobility had driven him since a carriage had hit his wife and since they had been homeless, he couldn't heal her and she had died in his arms. Since then, anger had led his life. But he had appeased himself. He had a life he had always wanted but he was living it alone. Maybe a wife wasn't a bad idea anymore ? But... not one of those ninny prancy sheltered idiotic daughters of the town... He needed fire, he needed spunk to match his own. And no woman in town had it.   
  
However, he had no food anymore and he needed to get some. So when he went out to do his foodshop, he went fast and discreetely. When he went home, he found his door open. He rushed upstairs but found no one. He could see little things having been moved, and the jewel box on the chimney was open. It was the place in which he kept his most precious belongings and when he checked inside, his wife's wedding ring was missing.   
  
Plunkett yelled in anger, kicking his armchair. "FUCK !"   
  
The only man having stolen from him and lived to tell was Macleane. He didn't want to bother his friend with this, because he was a family man now, and other people depended on him to live. He didn't want Macleane to risk the gallows  again for his stupidity. At least, Lady Belle hadn't warned the police.   
  
Rebecca and James invited him for lunch one day and he made sure to lock everything and rig the lock of his drawers. However, when he came back into his shop, the door to the staircase leading to his flat was open. The trap he had made in the lock was off, which made him angry. There was a silence, a tenseness in the air. Something was wrong. Then, he heard a step. In his supposedly empty flat.   
  
He went upstairs, slowly, step by step... He opened his door and saw Lady Belle, masked and in trousers again. "Belle French," he said, seeing her startle violently with some measure of satisfaction.   
"William Plunkett," she answered before turning around and removing her hood.   
  
He smiled at her smugly. "Why did you attack me at the inn ?" he asked.  
"You recognized me then ?"   
"Yes."   
"How ?" she said.   
"The oil. You bathed in it."  
"Very efficient, Mr. Plunkett."   
"Thank you, Lady Belle," he replied, his hand going for his knife.    
"Why are you here ?"  
"So you think you can come to our inn and you don't accept a thief can come to your house ?"   
"I had a good reason and you're obviously messing with me."   
"A good reason ? Theft has no good reason."  
"I wanted to steal your companion's scarf."  
  
She snorted. "Your friend Macleane can give you a fur to make a scarf."   
"It's for my godson. I wanted to give it to him."  
Lady Belle froze. "What ?"   
Plunkett darkened. "If you touch one hair out of his-"  
"No," she cut him off. "You're the only one I'm interested in. I've observed you."   
He took his knife out, pointing it at her. "What do you want with me ?"  
"Well, I want to take you back to London, of course."  
Plunkett sniggered, "What do you think I want to go back to London ?"  
"You won't have a choice..."   
They started circling each other, Lady Belle keeping an eye for his knife but mostly not looking very concerned with it. "Why ?" he ended up asking.  
"You are a murderer, Mr. Plunkett. You killed Detective Chance ?"  
"Are you telling me that you were looking for me to avenge this piece of human crap ?"  
  
Belle froze, suddenly a little uncertain. "Well... yes."   
"I won't follow you. Chance was a sorry excuse of a human being," Plunkett argued. "He deserved to die."  
"No matter what I think of Detective Chance, you will be punished for it."  
William tilted his head. It seemed the little lady killer they had sent after him didn't seem very concerned by the life of the man he had taken. Maybe there was a card to play there. He sheathed his knife. "How about a tea ?" he proposed.  
"What ?" This time, she really looked taken aback. "You're an apocathecary, you could slip a poison into my tea."   
"Prepare it yourself, then."   
She narrowed her eyes. "Why tea ?"  
Plunkett shrugged and went into the kitchen to put water to boil on the iron cooker. "You're saying I'm going to die. Humour a dying man ?"   
  
He laid two teacups and a teapot on the table, and pointed at her the cupboard in which he kept the tea leaves. Never turning her back on him, Lady French took the pot and smelled the leaves before nodding and fixing a teapot.   
  
While they were waiting for the water to boil, Plunkett asked, "So, who do you work for ? Who could be rich enough to send two killers after me to avenge a hated policeman ? Not his family... If I am to die for this, I need to know who is going to kill me."  
She shrugged. "It would not have been hidden from you, anyhow. Detective Chance was a Freemason."  
"It makes some kind of sense. Only some historically and shady society would push such a brutal man through the hierarchy of the police. Manipulation at its best : give the bully some measure of power and he'll eat in the palm of your hand while leading his troups with an iron hand. I don't understand something. You are a woman. From what I have heard of this freemason society, women are unwelcome."  
"Hence Sir Gaston."   
"Aaaah, I understand. He's your... foil. Your safe-conduct."  
"It is not proper for a woman to travel on her own," she replied bitterly.  
He found himself in agreement. "A shame. I know women who are more able than men. You, for example."   
"Thank you, Mr. Plunkett. It won't spare you, but I appreciate your compliment."   
"Also a shame you will never be accepted amongst them. You will be given the hardest work and when they're done with you, they'll let you down for they don't care about you."  
  
Lady Belle ground her teeth, a spark of steel glinting in her delicious blue eyes. Her silence told him she knew all this. If she had faith in those men, she'd have protested.  
   
"I have an offer to make you, Belle," Plunkett pursued, not caring he broke some kind of etiquette there. For all he knew, she could be as noble as him and it was even better. No noblewomen would have been brought up to the art of fighting and thieving. "We could help each other."   
"Help each other ? How can you possibly help me ?" she spat at him. She was frowning and standing tense and straight.   
  
Before Plunkett could answer, the boiling pot whistled behind them. She turned around and poured the water in the teapot. Her motions were almost mechanical and jerky.   
"Sit down ?" he asked gently.   
"I'm fine."   
"You can't possibly drink tea while standing. I thought the freemasons had given you a better education to pose as a noblewoman than this !"   
  
Her hand lashed out and he caught her wrist before it connected with the side of his face.  
"I know your anger," he said softly. "I had the same in me. Why are you so angry ?"   
Belle stared at him, all tense, as if a battle was happening in her body. Then, one side won out and she sighed, sitting down heavily in the chair next to his. He kept silent and loosened her grip on her wrist, lowering it from his face to the table. However, she made no move to pull her hand away from his. She was teary and exhausted.   
"What's your story ?" William insisted.   
  
After a whole minute of silence, she started to talk.  
"My father had a lot of debts to various members of the Freemasons and when they offered to forget it if he gave them his little daughter for them to raise, he accepted. I was just a mouth to feed to him, small, a girl... He was persuaded I would end up like many women of the East End, selling my charms in a brothel. At least, with the freemasons, I would be fed and clothed to do it. I imagine he thought he was doing it for my good. They raised me and turned me into what I am now, a weapon no one expects. I'm just a little pretty face, after all."   
Plunkett nodded, angry at the freemasons, but for her sake, he reigned it in. "How old were you when they took you in ?"  
"I was six."   
"We can help each other, Belle."   
"You don't fight against them, they're too powerful."   
"Who are they, here ?" he asked.  
Belle sighed. "The grandmaster is the judge and the sheriff is his right hand."  
"Who else ?"  
"I don't know, I saw no one else."   
"So, no one else knows you're with the freemasons ?"   
  
She shook her head.   
"Good," he pursued. "Then if we take them out and Gaston, that's fine."  
"No," Belle countered, shaking her head. "They'll send someone else. They'll stop coming only when you're dead."   
"Then they need to believe I am."   
"After this, I will have to go back with Gaston to England."  
"And he needs to go there to report your death," Plunkett said.   
"What ?"   
"If they believe we're dead, they will leave us alone ?"   
"If Gaston reports he saw it for sure, they won't have a reason to come back," Belle answered, nodding and pouring them tea.   
"And after he is gone, I imagine an accident could happen to the sheriff and the judge ?"  
"I've heard life was dangerous in the colonies."  
"They love to ride deep in the forest, alone. They go hunting on every tuesdays together. We could just ambush them and dispose of them," he replied, taking a cup of tea.  
"I love our plan," Belle concluded and raised her cup.    
  
They clinked their cups and shared a smile. For the first time in forever, the smile on Belle's face was a real one. They didn't notice they were still holding hands over the table and when she left his flat, his wife's wedding ring rested on the table.   
  
***  
  
Gaston hated every damn minute he spent in Savannah. Three weeks already and if he had to go to that church again to listen to the most boring pastor again, like he had done yesterday, he was going to commit a crime. He wanted to go back to London as soon as possible and Belle was taking her sweet time with hunting Plunkett. She had found him in record time, he was the apocathery of Savannah and quite an appreciated member of the community. She said she was studying him but from what he had seen, a good old knock behind the head, roping the gagged guy, throwing him into a chest and disappearing on the first boat was a good idea. All this waiting started to annoy Gaston.   
  
The food was unedible and not even the inn wench was enough to make him forget the taste of the watery chicken and the acid wine. He even had troubles finishing the pork stew that was called a supper he was having right now. He couldn't understand how Belle could eat this thing with appetite. Every mouthful was an ordeal. It was probably her upbringing.   
She suddenly froze. "Plunkett," she said, staring at the window behind him.  
"What ?"  
"Plunkett just passed outside the window."  
  
Gaston turned around. "How do you know ? It's nighttime."   
"I recognized his figure, I'd know it everywhere," she replied assertively. "He was going toward the back of the inn." She looked at Gaston, smirking like a predator. "Maybe he is going to try to steal you again."  
He looked uncertain. "It's a theory, you don't know for sure."   
Belle laid her fork down. "It is worth checking your bedroom out. Come, if he is upstairs, tonight is the night we're taking him out."  
  
Oh god, finally. London, here he was back. He stood up. "Let's go."   
  
The two of them rushed upstairs and indeed, in Gaston's bedroom, they could hear some noises. He and Belle smiled at each other She signaled to him to wait and she went into her own bedroom. When she came back, she wore her dark trousers and her mask. Gaston understood why she took the time to change, of course. It was better for her to fight. She whispered, shaking her head with disapproval, "This scoundrel went up a scale by my window to access your bedroom."  
He nodded, refraining the need to snort.   
  
Belle started to lower the door handle in silence when suddenly it burst open, pushing her into Gaston and they fell against the wall. They crumble in a heap on the floor and Gaston saw a masked Plunkett run out of his bedroom to Belle's. He stopped a second to smirk at the Freemason, which enraged him and he got even angrier when he saw the man wearing his silver fox scarf. He jumped to his feet and pulled Belle up. She ran and he followed her into her bedroom.   
  
The window was open and Gaston rushed there, seeing Plunkett saluting him from the bottom of the scale Belle had mentioned before running away. He took his gun out and aimed but Belle grabbed his arm. "No," she said. "Not here, too many people too close."   
  
She went outside, going down the scale too. She started to run after Plunkett and Gaston did the same. That bastard's little smirk was burned behind his eyelids and he was going to hurt him.   
  
They ran after their prey for long minutes throughout the city, thankful he was leading them toward the most empty streets. 'He mustn't want to be seen,' Gaston thought. 'Does he think we don't know who he is ?' If catching him this way didn't work, Langston himself would go to Plunkett's house and kidnap him there, Belle willing or not.   
  
They arrived in a little street and Gaston saw from the corner of his eyes the door to a little shed closing.   
"He's inside," Belle told him, out of breath.  
"Yes, I saw him too," he answered, panting loudly. He started to move toward it but Belle stopped him. "Didn't think he'd be the kind to hide like a coward."   
"No offence, Sir Langston, but this is my duty to capture him and in this shed, you're going to be at a disadvantage for you're too tall. He'll be able to hide and ambush while you won't be able to. I'm going to go inside and capture him. Can I have your gun ?"   
"You ? A gun ?" Gaston couldn't believe it, Belle next to never used guns.   
"He can fight. He threw me in the harbour once. I don't fancy losing time in this hell hole again."   
Her arguments made sense and he gave her his gun. "I'll wait outside to knock him out in case he escapes you."   
"Good idea," she replied, giving him a smile that made him feel like he was a puppy having obeyed for the first time. It was unpleasant. So he just grunted and waited while she clutched his gun and entered the shed.   
  
He heard the noises of a fight, shelves being knocked out, sounds of fists meeting skin, a slam into wood and a gunshot. And the silence.   
  
Who had won ? Gaston crept closer but a loud explosion threw him backward into the street as a ball of fire burned at the spot the shed had been. "B.. Belle..." he whispered before sliding into unconsciousness.   
  
***  
  
When he woke up, Gaston wasn't in the street anymore. He was in a soft bed that wasn't the inn's and it was daytime. George King stood over him and Graham Humbert was looking by the window.  
"What happened ?" the Grandmaster asked.  
  
Despite the headache and backache, Gaston answered in a weak voice, "Lady French was in the shed with the man we were pursuing. They fought and there was a gunshot."   
King rolled his eyes. "She shot him in the powder keg ? That woman was insane ! Of course she was insane, she was a woman."   
Sheriff Humbert came closer. "Everything burnt," he said softly. "I'm sorry but they are both dead."   
Gaston closed his eyes. "I need to go back to London as soon as possible," he told them.  
"The next boat leaves tomorrow," King informed him.  
"Are you well enough to travel ?" the Sheriff asked.  
"Yes," Gaston replied. "My duty here is done and I need to report as soon as possible to the lodge of London."   
"In the meantime, Graham will collect your things and your missing fiancée's and you'll stay here. Tomorrow, I'll escort you to your boat, Sir Langston," King decided.   
Langston nodded and waited for the next day.  
  
***  
  
"I can't believe it worked !" Macleane exclaimed, giving his best friend and his new friend a pint of beer each.   
"Yes, Langston was too dumb to check if there was a second door," Plunkett commented, toasting with James and Belle.   
  
Macleane had hidden them in his summer hunting cabin. It was tiny, too tiny for two but from the heated looks those two were sharing, they wouldn't mind. Watching them felt like intruding on them, so he focused on what started it all with a smile : his son's future scarf.   
  
Belle was smart and fiery enough for William and William would help her to let go of her anger and teach her to live again. Yep, James thought as he finished his beer bottom-up, a match well made. Soon, one of the most eligible bachelor in town would be married and he'd have his own family again.   
  
Tomorrow, James would go to take care of the judge and the sheriff for his friends while Rebecca would check if Gaston boarded the ship to London as planned by Belle. Then the two of them would go back to town, Belle living with the Macleanes until she was married to William. Alright, the official plan was to wait until she could afford a house while being William's apprentice but James knew they wouldn't stick to it.   
  
Tomorrow was the start of his best friend's new life and James couldn't wait to see it.   
  
  



End file.
